25. Aiden
AIDEN
For the third time in several weeks, Aiden had woken up in Isla’s room—but this time, she was in his arms.
They’d slept—only slept—which seemed like a miracle, considering he had the image of her pleasuring herself seared into his memory like a brand.
Holy hell, how can I ever erase that from my soul?
But they’d needed to sleep, apparently. Maybe it was just exhaustion or perhaps they’d both needed the comfort—a break from the push and pull that had been drowning them both.
Now, though?
Now he was hard as a rock, and he needed her. Needed to put an end to the torment that was Isla Scott.
Her body was already molded tightly against his, her arse tucked in tight against his groin, their legs entangled.
His hand rested against the bare skin of her flat belly, and he grazed her skin with the barest touch until he palmed her breast, fitting it into his hand.
Her nipples were silky smooth, fucking incredible , and he was on fire for her.
The sharp rasp of her breath told him she was awake now, and she snuggled into his touch. “Good morning to you, too,” she murmured, then shifted against his cock. “Is it morning already?”
“Unfortunately.” He kissed her shoulder with a featherlight kiss.
“Mmm...” Isla tilted her head back against his throat. “Did you sleep well?”
His palm made a circle over one nipple. “I was horny as fuck. But yes.”
She wiggled her hips against him, teasing, taunting.
“God, Isla.”
“You know,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “For someone who says he wants me as much as you do, you certainly seemed determined to take your time with it. Putting every obstacle in our way.”
Her hand moved between them, then she pushed it under his waistband, fingertips grazing the head of his cock.
Fuck. Yes.
“I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Hmm.” She enclosed her hand around his shaft. “I don’t know what you were thinking either.” She gave him a firm squeeze, then pulled away. “Because our first time isn’t going to be sleepy sex when I’m worried about morning breath. Besides, I don’t have a condom here, do you?”
Oof. He reached for her as she slipped free of his grasp and crawled out of the other side of the bed. Shite.
He raised a brow at her. “No, but what would we have done if I hadn’t stopped us last night?”
She gave him a pretty, sultry smile. “I guess you’ll have to wonder. But I guess we’ll never know.”
He hung his head. “Are you trying to torture me?”
“No.” She went over to the bathroom and turned the sink on, then came back with a toothbrush in hand. “But since you keep flipping the script on me and making me feel like I want you more than you want me, you’re going to have to earn your way into my pants, Aiden Camden.”
His lips parted for a few beats, then he groaned. He tossed the sheet to the side, gesturing to the bulge in his boxer briefs. “And this isn’t proof enough?”
Her eyes focused on him for a long moment— God, I love how she doesn’t hide what she wants— then she shrugged casually.
“Like I said. Earn it. But if you don’t want Quinn to find out about us, you might want to head back to the house now anyway.
” She winked. “I’m going to hop into the shower and get all wet and naked. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Aiden growled as she closed the bathroom door. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re punishing me,” he called.
“So what if I am?” she called back from the other side. The water turned on. “You made me cry. You’re going to have to prove you really want me now, Aiden.”
Dammit.
He dropped his head back against the pillow. Trust Isla to be unpredictable. She knew how to turn him into knots.
“You always leave, Aiden. What makes me any different?” She made everything different, but she wasn’t wrong either.
Her tears? He wasn’t sure if he could forgive himself for those tears she’d shed last night. Staying was insane, but he’d been helpless to do anything but after that.
He got out of bed and dressed, checking his mobile. It was early still—just after six—but that was late for him. And Quinn rarely slept past four.
“Fuck,” he breathed, then scrambled for his shoes.
He shoved his mobile into his pocket, then left, hurrying across the patio. Maybe if he went for a quick run, he could just convince Quinn he’d been out running?—
Quinn and Mason stood near the French doors, watching him.
Oh, goddammit.
They had to have seen him leave the guesthouse.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Aiden gave them a tight smile, then went inside the house. “Morning,” he managed, moving to scoot past them.
Quinn already had a fistful of his shirt in his grasp. He shoved Aiden roughly back against the door, the glass vibrating, and loomed intimidatingly, despite the fact that Quinn was a few inches shorter than him. “She’s like our sister,” he said through clenched teeth.
“But she’s not actually our sister,” Aiden snapped, resisting the urge to push back. A physical fight wouldn’t help matters right now.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s Isla. And you’re... you. Callum would be furious.”
Mason gave him a look as though to say, told you.
“I didn’t touch her,” Aiden said, shoving Quinn off him at last. It was almost true.
Quinn gave him a skeptical look.
“All right,” Aiden corrected. “I may have touched, but I didn’t have sex with her. We just slept. She was sad, and I comforted her.”
“So. ..you’re friends who sleep in the same bed? Kiss? Because I really don’t know what the hell you’re thinking, Aiden. This is a new low for you in terms of stupid, bullheaded obtuseness.”
“It’s a bit worse than that,” Mason muttered unhelpfully.
He really was going to murder his younger brother.
Quinn’s eyes shot to him, then widened. “You knew about this?”
“Shut your mouth, Mason,” Aiden said, drawing himself to his full height.
Mason hesitated, looking from one to the other.
“Tell me,” Quinn demanded with all the authority of an older brother.
“Don’t you dare?—”
“They got drunk and married in Vegas,” Mason spilled.
Aiden’s stomach bottomed out.
The thunk of a gavel. The whisper of an executioner’s sword.
He barely heard Quinn’s curse over the ringing in his ears.
And there it was. His death sentence .
Quinn paled, staring at Aiden with such shock that Aiden could practically see the wheels of his mind turning. Quinn’s hand clenched into fists at his sides. “You irredeemable bastard,” Quinn growled.
Why did everyone seem to think this was somehow his fault? As though Isla was some sweet, innocent young maiden who had been taken advantage of by a hungry wolf?
“Thank you, Mason,” Aiden breathed, throwing the full weight of his glare onto his younger brother. “We’re in the process of getting an annulment.”
Quinn drew a slow, measured breath, then took one step closer to Aiden. “Tell me the truth, for once and for all. Are you and Isla involved in some sort of intimate relationship?”
Were they? Not exactly , but he also had every intention of being in one. He couldn’t back away from her yet again. Not after last night. Not after he’d promised he’d do it her way.
Not when he was trying to earn the right to be with her. Prove how much he wanted her.
“I don’t think that’s any of your bus?—”
“Yes or no, Aiden?”
Aiden felt a deep, unbearable weight settle on his chest. “Yes,” he said, at last.
“And does Callum know about this relationship? Or have you lied to him and concealed it?”
His throat burned. “Callum doesn’t know. And I have lied some.”
“Then get out.” Quinn pointed toward the door.
What?
“You’re kicking me out of your house?” Aiden’s brow furrowed.
“Yes. You’re my brother. And that’s the only reason I haven’t punched you in the face. The only reason I haven’t already called Callum and told him what’s going on. He’s been my best friend all my life.”
“He’s my friend, too, Quinn.”
“Yes, then you should remember how another former friend destroyed him, Aiden. How Callum took you into his trust—one that he doesn’t hand out lightly.
You have put me in an impossible situation, in my own house, under my own roof.
I can’t control what you do, but I can control where you do it. Get out.”
Even Mason seemed surprised by the forcefulness of Quinn’s reaction, and he stepped back hesitantly.
“Right. Because I’m the villain here, aren’t I?
” Aiden shot Quinn a scathing look. “Always the villain. Oh, it’s fine to let me be the villain when it’s convenient.
Or to let me suffer the weight of burdens that you don’t want to bear.
Then you can slip away and have your fairy tale with your nonprofit and your perfect wife and beautiful baby while I’m stuck slaving away at the job you didn’t want. ”
“No one forced you into that job,” Quinn said. “You just refuse to accept responsibility for the decisions you make that come back and bite you in the arse, rather than just admit that maybe you had no idea what you were doing. Or that you took too much upon yourself.”
“ You forced me into it.” Aiden’s tone was biting and loud.
“You were constantly complaining that I never did enough. That I was forcing you to do too much. That I was enjoying my life too much while you were dealing with Mum and Dad and being too afraid to tell Elle, for years , that you loved her. Well, I’m not you, Quinn.
When my brothers need my help, I do step up.
And when I see a woman I want, I don’t take years to decide whether she means enough to me to actually do something about it. ”
Quinn’s fist was in his face before he could duck.
Aiden staggered, stars bursting in his vision. Pain flared in his jaw, sharp and immediate. He clenched his fists, his first instinct to hit back—but he didn’t. Quinn had a right to be furious. Yet it didn’t mean he’d just stand there and take it.
“Feel better?” Aiden spat, rubbing his jaw. “Or do you want another go at it?”
Quinn flexed his fingers, eyes burning. “If you weren’t my brother, I’d break your fucking face.”